Chapter One: Scrapped Knees
I do not remember much about my life before I reached the age of three but then again, who can honestly recall their infant years? I can remember always trying to keep up with a very energetic Thor for even back then, he was always getting into trouble. There was a five year difference between us so if you can picture a little two year old toddling after a not so little seven year old then you can also picture the outcome of such a seemingly impossible task. My little legs just could not keep up with my brother's larger strides and I can remember falling flat on my face like any child tends to do at that age when they are trying to keep up with an older sibling.
My knees ended up getting scraped so bad and I can remember just sitting there with tears in my eyes and bottom lip trembling as I watched Thor soon disappear from sight. I could not believe that my own brother had just left me there sprawled out in the middle of the hall for Thor had seen me fall and he had done nothing to help me. Or at least what was what I had first thought.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind that Thor returned and not only did he return but he also returned with carrying what appeared to be a partially ripped sheet. I can remember staring at Thor with wide obsidian eyes in sheer disbelief as he approached me with a worried look upon his face. I know that Thor may not admit such a thing now but he used to be quite the worrier when he wanted to be. I could never forget the look in his eyes as his gaze wandered down to my skinned knees and how gentle he had been when he used the sheet to wrap them around my wounded knees.
His touch was gentle and I could not help but feel instantly guilty for assuming that Thor had left me. That was not the Thor that I knew and I stared down at my stuffed rabbit, a gift that my mother had given me when I was just a year old, I realized that I needed to make up for my rash conclusion. So, I did the only thing that I could at the time for a two year old's logic is a lot different than that of an adult's way of thinking.
I offered Thor my stuffed rabbit. The gesture catching him completely off guard for he knew how much I cherished that ragged chocolate brown rabbit and I studied Thor intently hoping that he would accept my gift. I did not want him to be mad at me. I had thought wrongly of him and I needed to remedy the situation before Thor found out and hated me for it. A good two minutes of silence must have passed between us after I made my offer but at the time it felt as though an eternity had passed by before Thor seemed to finally find his voice.
The way that he looked at me and then down at the rabbit made my heart flutter in my chest for even though I wanted Thor to not hate me, I also did not want to lose my precious 'Bun-bun' as I so affectionately named him. My bottom lip trembled as I watched Thor reach out to seemingly take the stuffed rabbit from me however instead of pulling the rabbit from my white knuckled grasp, he instead playfully flicked my forehead and proceeded to wave a finger in front of me in a scolding manner.
"You're silly, brother. Bun-bun did not get hurt, you did. So I need you to hold onto him while I carry you to mommy okay?"
I was absolutely dumbfounded. Thor did not want my rabbit? It came as both a shock and a relief for that meant that not only could I keep the rabbit but I could also keep my brother's affections as well and I recall sniffling slightly as I stared up at Thor with nothing but sheer adoration shining in them.
"Thank you, Thor. Thank you."
Thor then proceeded to kneel down in front of me where he offered me his back and I hesitantly climbed up onto his back with Bun-bun being clutched tightly to my chest. Thor was surprisingly gentle then as well, much more gentle than I ever thought a seven year old to be and I remember thinking to myself how lucky I was to have a brother like Thor.
I am still proud to call him my brother though to this very day and I will never forget that day in the castle where Thor showed to me just how kind he could be. It was a quality of a great leader and now that I think about it, I can start to see why it was that my father seemed interested in Thor as being the next leader of the gods. Even though Thor would grow to be a huge pain in the arse during our teenage years, he still always seemed to be the same overprotective older brother to me. Which, when I turned thirteen proved to be quite an annoyance especially when I was trying to show the world just how much I could be like Thor and how much I one day wished to become the great man he would one day become…
To be continued…
A/N: Now I am not entirely sure how much of an age gap there really is between Loki and Thor but for this story, it's going to be five. Don't like it? Then don't read the story. Thanks.
